


But the more I cannot wish you

by AppleSharon



Series: But the more I cannot wish you [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 20:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12801375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSharon/pseuds/AppleSharon
Summary: When declaring his theme of "love" for the season, Yuuri Katsuki mentions all of the love he had from friends, family members, and his hometown that he's only now begun to recognize. One of these people who was always at his side, was his sister, Mari.Part of a series that explores different relationships around Yuuri and Viktor before and after they get together, this will cover the growth of Viktor and Yuuri, and their relationship, from short vignettes in Mari's perspective.Canon-compliant.





	But the more I cannot wish you

This had to be a mistake, nearly-seven-year-old Mari Katsuki thought to herself.

She had spent the five days in the care of her grandparents and even Aunt Minako, who wasn't really her aunt but could be since her mom said they were like sisters, had dropped by to play with her. It was fun. They let her stay up later than her mother and father ever did, and her grandmother often snuck her bits of leftover karinto or senbei that guests hadn't finished or eaten. They let her help with the dishes and bring out smaller plates of snacks to customers, who smiled and sometimes gave her hard candies. They brought an old keyboard and she plunked on it while her grandfather smiled. 

Mari was on the floor, strategically placing her feet underneath the kotatsu, absentmindedly pressing down on the keys when her parents returned. Her father engulfed her in a large hug, the chill of late November clinging to his jacket. Her mother smiled down at her before leaning forward. Mari wrinkled her nose at the sight. In her mother's arms was a tiny baby with a tuft of black hair and dark brown eyes. 

"It's not a mistake," her mother said with a slight chuckle. "He's your baby brother. Yuuri."

Mari covered her mouth with both hands. She hadn't realized that she said that aloud and while she wasn't too embarrassed, she still felt a twinge of guilt. 

It wasn't a very nice thing to say.

*****

When Mari was eleven, almost twelve, and Yuuri was five, Hasetsu was blanketed by the largest snowstorm she had ever seen. Drifts stacked higher than the first-story windows, and sat in piles around the onsen, slowly melting into the hot water with trickling drips as snow fell from nearby tree branches. That night, when Mari wanted to stay in the water a bit longer than she was supposed to, she pressed a clump of snow to her forehead, shivering as it melted onto her face.

With more than a few cancellations and only two customers, Mari's mother made plans to take both Mari and Yuuri to Tenzan Resort. Mari wrinkled her nose at the prospect of spending time at Tenzan, which she had never been to, with her baby brother. It wasn't fair that she had to look after him and teach him things on what should have been her vacation. 

"He can't even ski!" she yelled, ignoring the fact that he was already learning to ice skate. 

Her mother, with a rare frown in place, told Mari to go shovel the walk and then immediately go to her room for her rudeness. Mari spent the next hour whispering curses under her breath while violently throwing snow over the tops of snowbanks that towered over her head. When she was nearly finished, she heard a side door open and slowly close. Her little brother tottered out, bundled up in a tiny parka and smiling from ear to ear.

"Mari!"

Glaring out past the gates of Yu-topia Katsuki for a moment, Mari pasted a smile on her face and turned towards Yuuri, who was trying to run towards her. She winced a bit when he fell onto the driveway, but he popped right back up, smiling.

"Let's play!"

Mari looked at the piles of snow on either side of the entrance, and then back at Yuuri. She shrugged and motioned for Yuuri to come closer. His hair was matted down on his forehead and his knitted cap was askew.

"You need a haircut," she said aloud, more to herself than to Yuuri. 

Yuuri wrinkled his nose.

"Here," she said, sighing again with a put-out air slightly beyond her years. She pointed at one of the larger snowbanks. "Let's dig into this and make a fort."

"Okay!"

If she had been completely honest with herself in that moment, it was fun. Giggling, she helped Yuuri into the fort before trying to squeeze herself in. As she wiggled through the opening, her foot accidentally knocked into the side, sending half the fort tumbling down onto Yuuri. Mari quickly pulled herself out and then grabbed at Yuuri's knit hat, which slid easily off of his head into her hands. He sank further into the snow, crying in fear.

"Yuuri!"

She furiously dug on her hands and knees, removing all snow from her brother's face so he could breathe. His wails pierced through the evening air. Mari kept digging. Behind her, she heard shouting that sounded like her father. 

Mari learned that she had never heard her father yell until that day. 

Wide-eyed, Mari found herself dragged behind her parents through hospital corridors for the rest of the night. In between nervous consultations with nurses and doctors, her parents took turns reassuring her. 

"It's not your fault."

"You saved him."

"You couldn't have known."

She clenched her fists at her side when Yuuri, smiling, sheepishly handed her a marker with his left hand to sign his unmarked, brightly-colored cast on his right wrist. He dozed off a few moments later. 

Looking down at the pale face of her baby brother in the hospital, Mari learned that she loved him more than anyone else. Her mother smiled at her, placing a hand on the small of Mari's back, and ushered her out of the room. 

They never went to Tenzan.

Mari spent the next day reading books to her brother in the hospital.

*****

"He's beautiful."

Yuuri's words were followed by a crash. The near-empty plate he had ferried from the banquet room to the kitchens fell to the floor.

"Who is he?" Yuuri asked, running out into the small family dining area where Aunt Minako hummed along with the music. Beside her, tiny Yuuko Hasegawa absentmindedly played with her hair, eyes glued to the young man on screen. 

Mari sighed and resigned herself to cleaning up after Yuuri's mess. Pieces of pottery scraped across the floor, skittering ahead of her broom. 

"That's Viktor Nikiforov," Minako said. She emptied her sake glass before winking at Yuuri.

"You like what you see, Yuuri?"

Mari stifled a snort as she watched her brother's face turn four different shades of red before settling on a purple color. His eyes flashed with the fierce competitiveness that only surfaced ever so often between periods of frustration and doubt. 

"I'm going to skate on the same ice as him one day," he said, still in awe. 

"Me too!" Yuuko shrieked.

*****

Like many of Mari's old toys, clothes, and limited edition Pokémon trading cards that she had once begged her parents to buy for her, the old keyboard found its way into a corner of Yuuri's bedroom. She knocked softly on Yuuri's door and heard muffled rustling in response. Being an older sister, Mari opened the door anyway, only slightly surprised when the knob turned immediately. She could have easily picked the lock if necessary.

As she tip-toed into the room, Vicchan looked up at her quizzically. He wagged his tail and panted, anticipating her attention. 

"Shhhh," she said softly, patting his head. 

"Do you have that old keyboard of grandpa's?"

Her brother, hidden underneath two layers of blankets and presumably curled up in a ball, mumbled something under his breath. 

"You just decided you wanted to play the piano now?" 

Mari arched an eyebrow. Yuuri wasn't as clueless as he looked. She hadn't played the keyboard in years. 

Sitting down on the end of Yuuri's twin bed, Mari looked at the lump underneath the worn comforters. 

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," she said. 

He tore the blankets off, throwing them on the floor. They drifted over a cardboard box labelled "clothes."

"I want to go!" 

Mari put her hands up. Startled by the noise, Vicchan whimpered and shook, tags jingling. 

"I surrender little bro, stop yelling."

"Mom and dad say the same thing! 'You don't have to go, Yuuri.' 'You're fine as you are, Yuuri.' But I want to go! I need to be the best!"

She nodded as her brother's pitch rose with every word.

"I need to be the best and for that I need to go to Detroit."

"Okay," she said, rubbing his back in a rhythmic circular pattern. 

"I know I don't know English, and I'm not very good at skating, and maybe my coach will hate me, but I can be the best!"

Mari nodded. Her brother's temperament was often contradictory, vacillating wildly between arrogance and self-hatred. Years of experience had taught her to let him talk things out for himself, since he rarely spoke to anyone about his problems. She tapped her heel against the low bed frame, scraping it against a peeling glow-in-the-dark star. 

"Yeah," she said, allowing the last vowel sound to drag out.

"Mari," he started, turning around to face her on the bed. "What if I can't do it?"

She hummed. Mari didn't often trust what Yuuri said about his own skating, but she trusted Minako and Minako had admitted that Yuuri could be the best. That he had the potential to beat even Viktor Nikiforov, the silver-haired kid who had held Yuuri's attention all of these years, keeping him firmly focused on skating. These words had been uttered mid-drunken lament that Yuuri hadn't followed in Minako's footsteps and become a danseur — something to do with a competition between Minako and a Russian ballerina, Minako had long stopped making sense to Mari at this point — but a genuine belief in Yuuri's abilities shone through. Sometimes she could see this belief mirrored in Yuuri's eyes, underneath a furrowed brow and determined stare. 

"You can."

*****

She called him on every birthday, and messaged him after every competition.

He responded approximately half of the time. 

She made sure to dry her own tears long before picking up her smartphone to call him in Sochi.

*****

"He's in love with him."

The words were thickly accented, his voice rising and falling as he scrubbed vigorously at a particularly stubborn food deposit. Mari was surprised that the plate didn't shatter in his hands from the force. 

For the past six nights, the Russian fifteen year-old who Mari had dubbed "Yurio" had sullenly joined her in the kitchen. His presence was not requested, but neither was it unwanted. The tiny blond usually stood next to her, scowling and scrubbing without saying a word. They had developed a routine. Mari was in no way as fluent in English as her brother, so the silence suited her.

"Yes."

Mari didn't know whether Yurio was talking about Viktor or her brother, and doubted that it mattered at this point. 

"Fucker didn't even know who Piggy was until the banquet."

Of course Yurio would know English swears. Mari surmised that "Piggy" was her brother and nodded slowly, hoping that the best way to deal with Yurio was to just let him talk things through like her brother. He mumbled something unintelligible and returned to scrubbing. His hands were wet and raw.

"Excuse me?" she said.

"I. Knew. Him. First."

Seething, Yurio finally looked Mari in the eyes, tears welling up beneath his bangs. 

Mari nodded sagely and put her dish down. Placing her hand on Yurio's forearm, she slowly motioned for him to put the plate in the sink and follow her through the back kitchen entrance. She led him out onto the patio, wordlessly offering him a cigarette. He grabbed it from her angrily holding it in the air so she could light it for him. 

As she took a long drag, she pointedly ignored Yurio's coughing and waited for him to speak. They sat in silence for five minutes while Yurio's cough slowly subsided. 

"Everyone always wants Viktor," he said. 

Mari gathered Yurio in her arms and the fifteen year-old began sobbing. 

"I fucked up. I yelled at him! I keep yelling. And Viktor forgot about me to go be with him! I don't know how to apologize. I can't—"

She held him as he yelled into the night, half in English, half in Russian. 

The next morning, as she placed a bowl of soup in front of her younger brother, Mari reached up and flicked him on the forehead. Yuuri swore.

"What was that for?!"

"Be nicer to Yurio," she said. Yuuri looked across the table at a small, hooded figure drinking his soup straight from the bowl. 

"What are you looking at pig?"

When Yuuri turned back to her, visibly confused and slightly angry, Mari scowled. 

"Don't worry, he can't understand me in Japanese."

"Be nicer to him? He's terrifying. He hates me!" 

Mari reached down and flicked Yuuri on the forehead again. Yurio laughed. 

"You're dumber than I thought, little bro."

*****

It hurt.

Mari lied and laughed and said something to the effect of, "That's Yuuri!" with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes while Minako whooped. The object of Yuuri's affection sat, oblivious to Yuuri's dramatic declaration of love, mumbling something in Russian. His robe hung lazily off of one shoulder, revealing sharp collarbones and giving Mari further confirmation of at least one of the reasons why her little brother was so enamored. She doubted that he had understood a word of Yuuri's presentation on his theme for that season, which may have well been a confession.

It didn't hurt that Yuuri had found a romantic partner. She was happy for him, albeit amused that he had managed to snag the man that he had idolized for so long. Mari was also glad that Viktor seemed just as taken with Yuuri. 

Yet, it still hurt, that Yuuri hadn't considered her love, or their parents' or Minako's. Logically, she understood. Emotionally, it hurt. 

She didn't say this when he returned home that night. Instead, she gave him a big hug in the entryway as he sloughed off his shoes. 

"He's the only one you've ever wanted to hold on to," she teased with a cackle.

"Mariiiiiiii."

"Your secret is safe with me bro, but I doubt it's a secret anymore."

"Did he understand?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, he seemed very focused on your presentation."

Yuuri sighed and then steeled himself. She stepped back a bit, confused. Usually that look was only reserved for the ice. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "You and mom and dad and Minako and Yuuko and Nishigori, even the triplets, hell I wouldn't even have Viktor if it weren't for the triplets I—"

Mari wasn't much for words. Like always, she pulled him into a hug and ruffled his hair. 

"Let's go inside," she said. "Viktor's waiting."


End file.
